Once a King or Queen of Narnia
by ForgetMeNot8
Summary: After leaving Narnia, Peter and Susan face the prospect of boarding school; how will they react to leading a normal life? Lucy and Edmund, however, journey to school in Cambridge until the war has ended, fuelled by a future adventure in the magical land.


**A/N**_ : This is one of my first attempts at fanfiction for Narnia as I have been too afraid of ruining such incredible stories. Within the novels the Pevensies were always my favourite characters to journey to Narnia, but after the 'Voyage of the Dawntreader' they pretty much disappear until their fate is revealed in the final book. So I thought it would be interesting to do a piece surrounding their separate methods of adjusting to normal life, if indeed they can. In this following piece I have tried to capture the characters of Peter and Susan particularly, attempting to get inside their thought processes after their final Narnian adventure in Prince Caspian._

_Please let me know if you like it or if there is any way in which I might improve it! Enjoy!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_I don't own the Pevensie characters or Narnia; all credit goes to the wonderful C.S. Lewis._

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><p><strong>I<strong>

The four children exchanged bewildered glances, familiarised with the faces of those who had been momentarily blessed with magic only to have it drawn painstakingly slowly from their inner beings. Their clammy palms were still embedded in the firm grasp of the sibling who happened to stand next to them, as if the touch of someone who had shared treasured moments in Narnia would somehow prolong their experiences there. Inevitably, however, the sharp tingling sensation ebbed to the edges of their fingertips where it lingered, and then vanished. They were quite back to reality. Drained with the heavy realisation that he would never again be returning to the magical land which he had come to consider his home – somewhat strangely, as Susan had remarked, as they had spent so little of their lives there – High King Peter sunk onto the bench behind him, dethroned. Yet Peter, who felt bound to Narnia and its occupants, still considering himself their King and therefore charging himself with the responsibility of their wellbeing, had done nothing but long for that liberating sensation which they had experienced moments ago.

Once again time had frozen and the children stood on the filth-riddled platform of one of London's numerous tube stations, the nameplate barely legible beneath layers of dust. The train was before them, its doors sliding open expectantly as though it were awaiting their mount over the threshold. Susan bent to the floor to retrieve her case. It had been an enjoyable experience while it had lasted, but she was both old enough and sensible enough to know that it could never continue indefinitely. She had known the minute her feet had impossibly been enveloped in white snow in the back of the wardrobe in Professor Kirk's mansion, that this would be a journey whose destination should be anticipated if only to avoid bitter disappointment.

"I suppose we better go then," she spoke breathlessly, stepping aboard the train meant to take her to her next station in life; boarding school.

Lucy exchanged a glance with Edmund, their eyes revealing mutual disappointment, anxiety and a dominating reluctance to embark upon the next stage in their development. However they bowed to Susan's authority, scooping their belongings from the bench behind them. Edmund ignored Susan's outstretched arm and hopped unaided aboard the train and stood by her side, awaiting Lucy who turned to her eldest brother;

"Come on, Peter. We don't want to keep the driver waiting." She sympathised; at least she could rest in the assurance that her time in Narnia was not yet over, but she couldn't possibly imagine the concept of never being able to return again.

"Peter, come on!" Susan shouted above the din as the train groaned into life again.

The volume of his sister's voice rung in his ears as Peter snapped out of his thoughts and jumped onto the train marginally before the doors enclosed them in the carriage.

Fortunately they were the only occupants of that particular carriage so were able to speak freely of their experiences to one another, without fear of prying ears surmising lunacy from their conversation. Peter, aware that his siblings, Lucy in particular, would be eager to speak of Narnia as she had done to Professor Kirk when he had discovered them stumbling out of his wardrobe just a year before, dropped his suitcase firmly on the floor and shuffled to the seat nearest the end of the carriage. He would rather remain in his own thoughts for the time being.

"I always thought we'd be there longer, you know, the same as last time," as predicted, Lucy had been the first to speak.

A pause followed her statement as each child relived powerful memories of their 20 years as Kings and Queens of an enchanting nation. Lucy cast her eyes back over the dear friendships she'd made, Mr Tumnus and the beavers, Edmund feeling the breeze catching in his hair as he rode through relentless trees which danced merely as a consequence of his presence, and Peter stood on the grassy banks of the breath-taking Eastern coastline, the sun radiating off Azlan's silky coat as he stood beside him. Susan was the first to reawaken;

"We spent near a lifetime there, but now Peter and I at least must accept that our lives are here now." She cast a precautionary glance over her elder brother while he basked in silence, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes cast in the vague direction of his feet.

"But Lucy and I are meant to return!" Edmund protested defensively, as though justifying his remembrance of Narnia. "Isn't that right, Pete?" he avoided Susan's scolding eyes, desperately seeking support from his brother.

Lucy, startled by an overwhelming discomfort in seeing her brother so abnormally disheartened, crossed over to him and sat by his side. He failed to respond to the comforting notion of her hand on his arm, but when she placed her hand in his he squeezed it gently. Then, suddenly, he broke the silent communication between them by standing bolt upright as the train rattled through continual black tunnels, the electric light flickering above his head.

"That's right, Ed." He spoke finally, beginning to pace heavily the length of the carriage – it was an action Lucy recognised, but she couldn't quite place the resemblance as she sat patiently and waited for her brother's next words – "I thought it would be hard, but when Azlan spoke with me, well, it was alright."

"That's because our real home is here after all and Azlan knew that." Susan encouraged.

"No," Peter murmured, smiling weakly, "no it's because even though we can never live that same life there – have those same adventures – we will always have the memories of everyone we met, everything we did and what we've learned."

Lucy beamed up at her brother, exulted by his speech.

"I appreciate that, Peter, I really do-" Susan began.

"But…"

"Well I just don't think having long discussions about it is going to help us – we'll just miss it even more than we will already."

"But don't you see?" Lucy rose and strolled swiftly over to her family clustered at one end of the carriage, "We need each other to share these memories, to make sure that we have no chance of forgetting, to keep Narnia with us – it only exists with us." As she spoke passionately she grasped Peter's hand, growing stronger as she ascertained his support.

"I agree with Lucy," Edmund spoke quietly, Peter swiftly turning to reveal his brother sat collectedly behind them, "I mean look at what Narnia's taught us; most importantly how to communicate and act like a family. It's brought us close together, so that's only one reason how and why we should remember it!"

Peter smiled in agreement before observing his sister's slightly softer expression.

"Well alright, I suppose I'm outnumbered and it is a logical and agreeable idea, but answer me this; exactly how do you propose to engage in such frequent discussions when we are each to be placed in separate boarding schools?" she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Boarding schools aren't recluses; they'll have telephones and we can always write to one another – we all have the addresses of each institution. We'll find a way." Peter responded reassuringly.

Lucy removed the grey hat from her head and sighed, taking a seat next to Susan.

"I don't want to go!" she moaned.

"Cheer up, Lu." Peter bent to the floor so he could meet her downward gaze, "Boarding schools aren't all bad you know; you will make lots of new friends, get all kinds of sweets from 'tuck shops' and have dorm parties or whatever it is girls get up to," he laughed, successfully forcing Lucy to smile again.

"Really?" she asked cautiously, but Peter knew that he had eased her anxiety.

"Of course!" Susan agreed, wrapping her arm maternally around her shoulders. "If you survived two battles and all the challenges Narnia threw at you then boarding school will seem like nothing!"

Lucy tugged away from her reassuring embrace, both convinced and delighted that Susan had so willingly spoken of Narnia.

"Well actually I never really took part in those battles; I kind of left that to Peter and Ed."

"Yeah there you were strolling about in the forest like a lovely summer's day while we did all the hard work!" Edmund teased while the children smiled warmly at each other, enveloped in fond memories.

The tube eventually screeched to a halt at King's Cross Station and the Pevensies swiftly collected their bags and convened on the bustling platform.

"Right!" Peter shouted above the din of working men and soldiers engaged in arduous journeys home, "Everyone follow me and stick together!"

The four, luggage in hand, jostled against tidal waves of people as they made their way up the dimly lit stone steps before the passage erupted into light as the full majesty of King's Cross Station was revealed. They stood in a line, their uniform – adorned brand new that very morning – slightly crumpled, their necks craned upwards towards the glass ceiling supported by elegantly carved beams and marble pillars. A shrill whistle nearby brought them crashing back to the concrete floor and Peter checked the notes his mother had handed to him.

"Lucy and Ed have to…" he fumbled with the paper, his eyes scanning the writing and yet reading nothing; the sudden shock of returning to their life in England had left Peter dazed.

"Oh give them here," Susan snatched the paper, concerned that they would miss their respective trains, "I will take Lucy and Edmund to platform 4 and you need to go to-"

"No," Peter protested, "I'll take them – my train is on platform 5, if I recall correctly, and yours is all the way at platform 9."

"Fine," Susan sighed, "Their train should have arrived already and yours is at ten past on platform 5."

Peter nodded absentmindedly, observing his brother and sisters with a distinct forlornness; it was the first time they were all to be parted and, though he would never admit to it, he wasn't prepared for it. They had always done everything unanimously, sharing bedrooms, primary school, evacuation and Narnia. Now they were to be separated for a lengthy amount of time – how would he be able to look after them, as his duty as an elder brother commanded him to? At least Lucy and Edmund would be together, schooling across the street from each other in the outskirts of Cambridge; that was a comfort at least, he thought as Susan pulled them into a tight embrace, folding their heads in her soft curls and muttering kind parting words to them. He then moved forward and hugged his sister, promising that he would write as often as possible and then, taking Lucy's hand and with Edmund at his side, turned and walked to Platform 4 in silence.

As predicted, the gleaming body of the freshly polished train awaited them. The porter relieved Edmund and Lucy of their luggage and then Lucy turned to her brother.

"I'll miss you," she uttered after a brief silence.

He smiled meekly before pulling her towards him in a tight embrace;

"What will I do without you, Lu?" his voice was muffled in her plaited chestnut hair.

With a heavy heart he watched her walk away till she paused by the steps of the train. Edmund stepped forwards, shuffling slightly as though he didn't quite know how to say goodbye. Peter stifled a laugh and pulled his brother into a tight embrace, shuffling his dark hair as he had always done, savouring his look of mock disgruntlement as he pulled away from the hug and flattened his hair again.

"Now look after Lucy for me; you're the man of the family now."

"Not really – only until we get back at least." Edmund nodded shortly, joining his sister by the steps as they both looked back.

Peter watched his youngest sister and brother safely onto the train. He had planned to wait until the train had pulled out of the station, but the sadness he felt was too potent and they couldn't see him cry; the memory they were to hold of him, particularly Lucy, was their strong, dependable brother till they met again.

As he walked away, leaning slightly to compensate for the weight of his case, threading through the crowds, Lucy suddenly recalled the likeness of his pacing motion on the tube; she thought him very much like a younger Professor Kirk.

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><p><strong>II<strong>

The crumbling stone columns stood either side of what must once have been a set of wrought iron gates which towered high above any soul who happened upon the boarding school, for it was not a place that individuals actively sought. For one thing it was notoriously difficult to discover, amongst the vast forests nearby which boasted some of the tallest trees in England and the surrounding geography of the Dales which consisted of a series of small hamlets; prime locations for concealing small buildings. As it happened, St Luke's Grammar School for boys, in the centre of Yorkshire, was just that; the playing fields which stretched for acres (deceptively behind the small exterior of the building) were the sole attraction which the school could be proud of, though they had exaggerated multiple other factors for prospective clients. Despite its small size, the number of pupils had doubled since the outbreak of war in 1940 with mothers anxious to protect their little darlings from city bombs. Although, despite a considerable increase in finances these pupils had brought with them, the school had failed to extend on its facilities and employ further staff. This had resulted in overcrowding in the dormitories and class sizes which exceeded 40 pupils to a single teacher; more frequently the staff had been seen marching their pupils to a secluded spot on the sports grounds in which they could teach, as their class could no longer fit inside the room to which they had been assigned. However this was only on the rare occasion that the sun shone, otherwise they just had to make do. Despite these flaws, advertising was brimming with advantages of sending ones children to such an inspired institution, and so far away from the destructive consequences of war.

It was natural, therefore, for Peter Pevensie to feel relief as he eventually staggered through the gateway and naively attempted to anticipate good things from his time here. The sun had long melted behind slowly drifting, thick, grey clouds and Peter felt the chill of the autumn wind for the first time since his return to England. He dragged his suitcase jerkily down the straight stone drive, the plants on either side of him blossoming expectantly as he passed before drooping once more. He approached the oak door embedded in the charismatic façade of the aged mansion and smoothed his hair, ensuring his shirt was tucked in, before he knocked three times. In no time at all the door was swiftly opened and a stout man revealed, short and visibly overweight, with glasses sliding down his hooked nose and a neatly pressed black suit. He was one of those men you immediately associate with banking or some similar egotistical profession.

"New student, are you?" He said curtly in a thick upper-class oxford accent, while his eyes made a swift assessment of Peter and his brain began judging his character.

"Yes," Peter answered, despite the fact that the inquiry had been said more as a statement than anything else, "Sir," he added swiftly as he saw the gentleman's eyes widen momentarily at the youth's impertinence (after Narnia he had been unused to figures challenging his authority, despite minimalistic spats with Caspian on their latest and last visit). In that moment Peter decided that he wasn't going to enjoy his time here and that as soon as the opportunity was presented to him, he was going to leave.

"Well I suppose you best come in then." He stood back reluctantly, almost as though he would rather turn Peter away than have another boy to concern himself with; Peter would not have complained. "Just leave your bag there boy and come through to the Master's office. He will assign you your dormitory and get a pupil who has been with us a while to give you a hand with where everything is, alright?"

"Yes…Sir." Peter uttered after a cursory second as the gentleman began to stalk down a dark corridor.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Peter. Peter Pevensie." He answered, silently considering it fantastic that only hours ago he had been addressed as His Majesty High King Peter of Narnia. "If you don't mind my asking, who are you?"

"My name is Mr Barkley and I am in charge of the daily running of this institution; the Deputy Head, if that is how you would prefer to think of it. However you, as the other pupil's do, will address me as 'Sir'."

"Right…understood, Sir."

The rest of the journey was undertook in silence, the only sound being the creak of floorboards beneath their feet as they walked down the straight wooden passage. They drifted momentarily into a larger hallway with a magnificent double staircase, carpeted in a blood-red material, with a lit chandelier hanging above it, casting the area in a comforting golden glow. However they only filtered off into another corridor, the walls decorated with portraits of previous Headmasters dating back to 1867. All in all the journey was rather intimidating, but reaching his peak as he sat in that infamously formidable place; the one where most boys fear to be in, the one where some fools compete to be in, outside the Headmaster's office. He wrung his grey hat continually between his palms before a voice called out;

"Come in, Mr Pevensie!"

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><p><strong>III<strong>

Susan assorted her curls delicately into place and adjusted her skirt so it was appropriately below the knee. She judged her appearance as not the least bit flattering in the grey skirt which hung off her waist, topped off with the maroon blouse with the school logo emblazoned in deep gold on the right top pocket, but she had expected as much. All that concerned her was that the school was fond of her from the first. She needed as happy a life here as possible if the pain of losing Narnia wasn't going to cause her considerable grief. She composed herself and returned to the high-backed seat in which she had been instructed to wait.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you." A tall girl with hair tied elegantly behind her head, allowing some chestnut curls to fall about her shoulders, outstretched a hand for Susan to shake.

"How do you do?" She forced a smile while admitting somewhat begrudgingly that this girl, who went on to introduce herself as Vera, was in fact rather pretty, possibly even more so than her.

"I take it you're new here and I hope that I can help you settle into things here though, I have to admit, it doesn't take much settling in I can assure you."

"What do you mean by that?"

Contented that Susan seemed interested in what she had to say, Vera sat in the seat next to hers and swivelled to the side to face her;

"I just mean that nothing really exciting ever seems to happen here, that's all. Apart from the soldier's ball but that's only really for leavers. I managed to sneak in last time though and it was incredible, dancing with all the young soldiers before they go off to war…sad really." She was clearly immersed in melancholy memories, her eyes set on some invisible being in the distance.

"War is sad; there is no escaping that…just like there's no escaping war, no matter how far away you may appear from it." Susan comforted, patting her shoulder briefly.

"I guess you're right. Is your father fighting in the war too?"

"Yes he is. We haven't seen him for months. Mother keeps sending us out of harm's way but we always seem to miss him whenever he comes back to London on leave."

"I haven't seen my father for months either cause I've been locked up in this place haven't I?" She attempted to lighten the mood, grasping Susan's hand warmly in a firm gesture of the friendship to come from this meeting.

"Ah I see you have already met Miss Tomlinson."

Susan and her new friend jumped slightly with unanticipated interruption of the Headmistress. She was tall and slim, with a warm facial expression, wrinkles embedded near her eyes from excessive smiling, and blonde hair pinned behind her head.

"Welcome Miss Pevensie to St Margaret's. I trust your journey wasn't too arduous?" she extended a hand which Susan shook firmly.

"No it wasn't, thank you Madam, just very long."

"Please call me Mrs Hampstead and yes, the journey from London to Derbyshire is rather long. But worry not, I am sure you will have a wonderful time here and if you aren't enjoying yourself then let me know any ideas of improvement you may have."

"Thank you very much Mrs Hampstead. I am sure I will find everything more than agreeable."

"I certainly hope so. Now, since you have already met Vera I see no reason to separate you; she will act as your guide over the next fortnight to ensure you settle in. I believe you are assigned to room 186, which Vera will show you to now so that you may relieve yourself of your bags. Then maybe a tour…I will leave it up to Vera. I shall see you again in a week to check how you are doing."

"Thank you," Susan called as Vera took her bag from her and began to point her in the direction of her room.


End file.
